


Clean Hands

by threeplusfire



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: BDSM, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, vague scifi AU setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 00:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10262900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/pseuds/threeplusfire
Summary: “You’re gonna clean every bit of it up when you’re done,” Ross said, his voice low. Trott flushed, and felt a twinge of shame for how much that turned him on.“Yeah, okay,” Trott agreed, trying not to sound too hasty. Ross smiled, and dragged the chair closer to the bed.----A vaguely sci-fi military AU excuse for kink.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Inspired by a [very NSFW piece](http://alifranco.tumblr.com/post/158284396758/good-boy) from one of my favorite artists, and some late night conversation.

Major Chris Trott walked swiftly down the hall, passing the stairs that lead down to the common areas, the kitchens, and the quarters of most of the servicemen and women on staff. The outpost was a small affair, housed in a couple buildings and a wall where bored soldiers patrolled. His work was only a walk across the courtyard, in the communications tower where they listened hopelessly for any signal from the deep reaches of space beyond the known frontier.

The upstairs hall housed the ranking officers, just a handful of them to oversee the couple dozen people assigned to this outpost. Most of the servicemen and women had scientific backgrounds, and struggled with the boredom of the assignment even as they hoped to be the ones who made a discovery.

Trott slowed as he approached the end of the hall. His steps tapped against the freshly mopped floor. Trott did not let himself look down the hall to see if anyone else was around. Evening meal was long over, and most everyone was in their room except those unlucky few assigned to night duties.  He glanced at his own door on the right, but turned left to knock on the door across the hall. 

“Come in.” The voice was slightly muffled through the door. 

When Trott pushed open the door, he found the room an inverse mirror of his own. The desk was under the window, the shade drawn down against the night, but the bed stood against the right wall and the wardrobe on the left. The same institutional furniture though, assembled from flat pack cartons and made of the engineered bamboo. There was a different lamp on the desk, a dim yellow light that turned the shadows velvet and soft. 

Major Ross Hornby sat with his feet propped on the desk, still dressed in his uniform. He leaned back, tipping his chair precariously. Trott silently stood in the center of the room, looking around.

“I don’t know why, but I always expect it to be a mess,” Trott said after a long pause.

“Maybe I cleaned it up just before you got here.” Ross set his cup on the desk, lining it up with the clear pitcher of water. There was a towel, folded into a square, between the pitcher and the monitor screen. His jacket was slung across the desk, the dark grey fabric rumpled. 

“Hmm.” Trott clasped his wrist behind his back and took a step towards the wall. There was very little personal in Ross’ room, at least not that he could see. There was a large picture beside the wardrobe, an unfamiliar landscape. Trott studied the hills, the low trees and the clouds in the bright sky. He didn’t move, listening to Ross settle the feet of the chair and stand up.

“Well?” Ross asked, moving closer until he was standing directly behind Trott. Not quite touching, he was still close enough to radiate heat in the cool room. 

Trott lifted his hands to unbutton his shirt, working methodically down. He stripped carefully and slowly, as if he were undressing in his own room. Ross took each article of clothing, carefully hanging the jacket, shirt and undershirt on hooks at the side of the wardrobe. Shirtless, Trott knelt to unlace his boots. Behind him, Ross remained silent. Trott took a deep breath, and pulled down his uniform trousers. Quickly he shucked his underwear as well, folding his clothes before handing them to Ross. They went onto the little shelf over the hooks.

Slowly, Trott turned around. He stood straight, naked except for the thigh high stockings. The tops were wide bands of black lace, and the stockings sheer. Adjusting them, he made sure the lace was flat on his thighs. Once they were settled, Trott finally let himself look at Ross waiting expectantly.

“I knew you’d look good in them.” Ross stepped closer, looking down at Trott’s legs. 

“You’re a pervert,” Trott said solemnly. His lips twitched as he tried not to smile. Ross laughed, and kissed Trott. He licked at Trott’s bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth before he pulled back.

“I want you in the chair.” Ross set the chair so it faced the bed, and Trott carefully sat on the plain, hard seat. It was still slightly warm from Ross. Behind him, Ross opened a desk drawer. Trott shivered as Ross gently pulled his arms behind his back. The rope was soft on his wrists, thick and heavy. Ross looped it back and forth several times before cinching it tight.

“Okay?” Ross asked, his breath tickling Trott’s ear.

“Okay.” Trott settled himself against the back of the chair, arms hanging loosely into the security of the rope. He trusted Ross, more than he trusted anyone else here. Ross knelt in front of him, pushing his knees wider. With the same careful concentration, Ross positioned Trott’s legs and bound his ankles to the legs of the chair. 

“We can stop any time,” Ross said. His hand rubbed up Trott’s calf, following the seam of the stocking.

“I know.” Trott puffed out a breath. He shivered as Ross stroked his legs, seemingly fascinated with the sheen of the stockings on them. The first hint of arousal sparked in his gut, warmth spreading through his limbs.

“I like you this way,” Ross murmured. His hands followed the lines of Trott’s muscles, up his legs to the taut lines of his stomach. Trott tried to concentrate on his breathing. He felt strangely safe, secure in the ropes and in Ross’ hands.

Ross sat on the edge of the bed. He unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt, his pale blue eyes studying Trott. His knees bumped the inside of Trott’s legs.

“Did you wear these all day?” asked Ross. 

“Put them on after lunch,” Trott admitted.

“So the whole time you were doing those reports…” 

“Yeah.” Trott raised his eyebrows, shifted to move his hips a little. 

“Who’s the pervert now?” Ross murmured, smiling. He leaned forward to kiss Trott again. It was more demanding this time. Ross pushed his tongue into Trott’s mouth, something Trott was never going to stop finding strange even if it was kind of hot. He moaned into Ross’ mouth at the touch of his hand, getting hard as Ross stroked up the inside of his thighs. He tensed, his cock stiffening as Ross’ hands skillfully stroked and fondled him, fingers dipping to tease his balls or tug at the thick hair of his groin.

“I like you like this,” Ross said, pulling back to look at Trott. He licked his lips, his mouth reddened. Trott groaned, imagining it wrapped around his cock. He flexed his arms, straining a bit at the rope holding him in place. Ross noticed, a smirk crossing his face.

“I think you like it too,” he continued, wrapping his hand around Trott’s cock. He slid it up and down, rubbing his thumb over the head to smear the leaking fluid down his shaft. Trott moaned again, unable to stop himself from squirming and trying to push into Ross’ grip.

Trott’s chest flushed pink, his breath more ragged. He couldn’t remember why having any self control mattered, not with Ross staring at him so closely. The hurry up and wait rhythm of Ross’ strokes rocked him closer and closer to the edge.

“Shit,” Trott gasped, the word wrenched out of him by the twist of Ross’ wrist and the pressure of his other hand sliding under his balls. He closed his eyes, the sensations overwhelming.

“Not yet,” Ross teased, pulling his hand back. Trott groaned in disappointment.

“Ross, please…”

“Please what?” 

“Finish it.” Trott forced his eyes open, hazily focusing on Ross.

“Mmm, do you give me orders?” Ross licked his lips, tracing the veins under Trott’s skin. 

“Shit, no.. please.”

“Maybe if you’re good.” Ross leaned back, and Trott could see the outline of his cock in form fitting trousers. He ran a hand over himself, smiling at Trott. Trott felt his own cock twitch, yearning for the feel of Ross. His mouth watered, and Trott shuddered as he watched Ross press his hand into the tightly stretched fabric to cup himself.

“Something you want, Trott?” 

“Please.” Trott’s voice cracked, and he swallowed. “Please touch me.”

“Look at yourself, all red…” Ross shifted towards him again, hands sliding on the slick nylon of Trott’s stockings. He pressed the back of his fingers to the underside of Trott’s cock, just barely stroking him. Jaw clenched, Trott tried to hold in the desperate sound. He squirmed, the ropes keeping him from curling up or moving away.

“I wonder how long I could keep you like this,” mused Ross. 

“Please just… fuck.” Trott curled his toes, his thighs tensed as his body jerked with a wave of pleasure. Ross let go of him, and Trott moaned. Slowly, Ross ran his hands up Trott’s stomach and chest, fingers toying with Trott’s nipples. He bent his head, leaning forward to lick at Trott’s throat. Trott whimpered, trying to arch himself into Ross’ hands and mouth. 

“Please-”

“Please what?” Ross’ voice against his neck made him shudder.

“Anything! Touch me, fuck me, anything just-”

“Make you come?” Ross touched the tip of Trott’s cock, making it jerk again.

“Ross,” Trott groaned. 

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you come. On one condition.” Ross kissed Trott’s cheek and sat back.

“Which is?” Trott frowned slightly, trying not to pant as Ross’ hand petted his leg.

“You’re gonna clean every bit of it up when you’re done,” Ross said, his voice low. Trott flushed, and felt a twinge of shame for how much that turned him on.

“Yeah, okay,” Trott agreed, trying not to sound too hasty. Ross smiled, and dragged the chair closer to the bed.

“Good boy,” he whispered in Trott’s ear as he wrapped his fingers around Trott’s cock again. Trott bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to cry out as Ross jerked him off. The slide of his hand over Trott’s sensitive skin overwhelmed him, pushing him right up against the edge and over it. Ross pressed Trott’s head to his shoulder, muffling his moan as he came. Trott was grateful for the closeness, being able to close his eyes and shudder through the pleasure that wracked his body.

When Ross pulled away, Trott took a deep, shuddering breath. He opened his eyes to see Ross’ hand in front of his face. Obediently, Trott craned his neck to lick at the come covering Ross’ palm and fingers. A part of him thrilled at the way Ross sucked in a breath, the stifled sound loud in the room. Diligently, Trott lapped at the bitter, sticky mess.

“Trott,” Ross whispered. He stroked the back of Trott’s head, nails scratching lightly at Trott’s scalp and the back of his neck. Trott looked up at him, registering the desire all over Ross’ face. Deliberately, he sucked two of Ross’ fingers into his mouth.

Ross let go of Trott’s head and fumbled with his belt. He managed to yank open his his trousers, pushing them down to his thighs as Trott lasciviously dragged his tongue over Ross’ fingers one at a time. Pulling his cock from the regulation grey and black underwear assigned along with their uniforms, Ross took his fingers out of Trott’s mouth. He straddled the chair, moving himself much closer to Trott’s face.

Eagerly, Trott opened his mouth. Ross moaned softly, pushing himself forward. Trott gagged a little, choking on the sensation of Ross hitting the back of his throat in his eagerness. He tried to push his head back, to give himself more room to move. His tongue pressed flat against the bottom of Ross’ cock, moving back and forth as he tried his best to give a blow job without the use of his hands. One of Ross’ hands gripped the back of the chair, and the other held Trott’s head. It was rough, impatient sex. Trott let himself relax a little, letting Ross fuck his mouth while making needy, quiet little noises over him. He could taste the salt of Ross’ sweat, the bitter traces of come. Saliva drooled out of the corner of his mouth, running down his chin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Trott I’m close.” Ross panted, managing to warn him even as he continued thrusting into Trott’s mouth. A few breaths later, Ross came with a groan. Trott sputtered and choked a little, but managed to swallow most of it. He felt Ross’ arm shaking where his hand gripped the chair, holding himself up over Trott. When Ross pulled back, Trott felt a twinge of disappointment. He’d almost gotten used to the feeling. 

Trott closed his eyes, letting himself drift as Ross climbed off him. He listened to the sound of Ross pulling up his trousers, and dropping his belt on the desk. His steps were heavy on the laminate floor. Ross touched his shoulder, gently warning him before he knelt to untie Trott. 

His arm muscles protested moving, and Trott hugged himself as Ross quickly untied his ankles. 

“You want to lay down, or…?” His voice trailed off. Trott clambered onto the bed and Ross followed him. He spooned up against Trott’s back, fitting their bodies comfortably together on the narrow regulation bed. 

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” Trott warned. He closed his eyes anyway as Ross wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I doubt anyone would even notice if you slept in here,” Ross said quietly. He nuzzled the back of Trott’s head, the sensation ticklish. Trott grumbled a little.

“I am not showing up wearing yesterday’s uniform at roll call in the morning.”

“Don’t want them all to know I was fucking your face all night?”

“All night?” Trott snorted. “That barely lasted five minutes.”

“Hey, I waited until you’d gone first!”

Trott laughed, and pulled Ross’ hand up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“You keep doing that, we might have to go again.”

“Hmm.” Trott rubbed a stocking clad leg against the bed. “Maybe that’s my plan.”

“You’re a menace,” Ross mumbled, kissing the back of Trott’s neck. Trott smiled to himself, counting the free hours until morning. There was time, he decided. Rolling over, he plastered himself to Ross and kissed him.


End file.
